Saved, the First Final Time
by NachtcGleiskette
Summary: Mystique's thoughts as she saves Nightcrawler from the cage fight. Filling in the blanks in Apocalypse!


She took a breath as she stepped out of the car. She'd been following a few leads, off and on, for the past few years to find him. She went back and forth, getting close, then giving up. She'd known now for a while that he was a star in the Munich Circus, and she was happy it was not a part of the _freak_ show. It was one reason she'd not taken any action. He seemed to have people around him who loved him, and she was sure she didn't have that to offer.

In her ruminating on contacting him, she'd received another lead, which brought her here. She knew she could never be a mother, but she would be _damned_ if he would be part of something so vile as the fighting ring she was attending tonight. While she hadn't given him much of anything past his life, the least she could do was not allow him to live it a slave.

She kept her expression passive, unreadable. She got a few looks, though that was expected in the skin she was wearing. As soon as she entered, she eyed the cage. A winged boy was there, standing over a large, bloodied man. As they pulled the loser out, the announcer began to introduce the next fighter. Her German wasn't perfect, but she had to roll her eyes at the way he described it. Angel vs demon. It made her purse her lips. The stereotype she was sure he lived with his whole life. Though who knew how he felt about it. His father _reveled_ in being likened to a demon.

Finally, a box – a _coffin_ , it seemed – was rolled down and lifted on it's end. She looked to the 'angel'. Were her son _anything_ like his father, this boy wouldn't last but a moment. But as the box was opened and he was dumped onto the floor, she furrowed her brow. He was….so _small_. Azazel was imposing, and even _she_ had an air about her. But this boy was….he seemed so innocent.

He teleported in quick succession – a gift from his father. She flinched inwardly as he hit the electrified fence more than once. She scanned the room for the source of the electricity, and slowly made her way over. She didn't _want_ to watch this fight. Every time she looked over, she saw that tiny newborn. The whispy little baby he was, the only person in recent memory who scared her enough to make her run. Guilt sat heavily in her stomach over it now, even though she had long made peace with her decision.

She heard a loud cheer, and turned, noting he'd turned on the 'angel', slamming him into the fence. ' _Good boy_ ,' she thought. Making quick work of the guard by the power station, she pulled a few levers, the electrical fields powering down. Realizing what had happened, the crowd panicked. 'Angel' was out, attempting to fly, but she'd lost sight of the boy. Shifting again to a less flashy form, she found him, putting out her hand.

"Come with me," she urged. He looked at her confused, then took it, but they weren't able to escape before someone grabbed his shoulder, teleporting along with them. She elbowed them, knocked them out, then pulled their coat over her son's shoulders. People were coming. She shifted to a man, pointing in the opposite direction. "They went that way!" As the others dispersed, she shifted back to the other form, turning to see the blue boy staring at her with wide eyes.

For the first time, she got a chance to really _look_ at him. He barely resembled the baby she gave away. He had his father's cheekbones, and, she noted, _her_ father's nose. She frowned at the odd scars on his face, stopping herself from reaching a finger to trace over them.

She returned to the moment when she heard his voice. "You can transform," his eyes widened in recognition. " _You're her_." For a moment, she felt her heart stop. There was _no way_ he could remember her. He was _days_ old when she left him. It was _impossible_ , right? "The hero." His thought completed and she let out a breath.

"I'm not a hero," she shook her head. She wasn't, and most certainly not where this boy was concerned. Though he had no idea, as he looked at her with adoration. Those eyes hadn't changed in the seventeen odd years since she'd last seen them, and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze, looking away. "Let's get out of here."

She'd not raised him, but she'd saved him. She'd be sure wherever she left him this time, it would be safe, and she'd be on her way once again. Maybe now, she could finally _forget_ him, and no longer have him exist in that dark corner of her mind. Maybe she could finally shake off the guilt, and never ever again wonder about him. But if the best she could do was just live with the knowledge he was taken care of, that was enough.


End file.
